Ron And Mallory's Anniversary
by Red Witch
Summary: Ron and Mallory celebrate their anniversary. Unfortunately, they don't celebrate it alone.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone out somewhere. Just a mad little thought from my mad little mind.**

 **Ron And Mallory's Anniversary **

"Another day," Mallory sighed as she finished her breakfast. "Another headache."

"What's wrong **now**?" Ron sighed as he sat across the counter table from his wife.

"Just the long agonizing misery that's my life," Mallory grumbled before she took a drink of coffee. "My business is failing. My employees are idiots who couldn't find a clue to save their asses. My son is in a coma. I'm in exile in La La Land…"

"Well maybe this will cheer you up?" Ron handed her a card.

"I highly doubt it," Mallory groaned as she opened it. "Our anniversary is **today?** Are you sure?"

"I checked," Ron said dryly. "Yes. So happy anniversary."

"Another year in so called wedded bliss," Mallory grumbled. "Hooray."

"I'm going to take you out tonight," Ron told her.

"Why?"

Ron said. "It's our anniversary and I want to celebrate it."

"Again. Why?" Mallory blinked.

Ron groaned. "I have no idea. Look we've been married five years. That has to be some kind of record for you."

"Technically…" Mallory paused. "Five years? Are you sure? **That long**?"

"I know," Ron gave her a look. "Time flies when your life is filled with drugs, fights and gunfire. Anyway, I figured that we go out. Just the two of us."

"Why just the two of us?" Mallory asked. "Why not throw a big party?"

"And who would we **invite**?" Ron snapped. "Keeping in mind the entire neighborhood hates your guts. None of your so-called friends back in New York will come. The only people who would is the gang from the office! You really want to hang around **them** _even more?"_

"No, I do not," Mallory groaned. "You have a point. So where are we going?"

"I was thinking the Crab Shack," Ron said. "It's all you can eat crab cakes week."

"The **Crab Shack?"** Mallory snapped. "You honestly think I want to celebrate my anniversary at _The Crab Shack?"_

"Did I or did I not say it was all you can eat crab cakes?" Ron asked.

"I don't care if it's all the **caviar** you can eat!" Mallory snapped. "I'm not celebrating our anniversary at some dump called The Crab Shack."

"It's not a dump!" Ron snapped. "It's a very nice little place on the waterfront! You've been there before! You **liked** their crab cakes! And the fact they didn't water down their daiquiris."

"Is that the bar you're setting now?" Mallory groaned. "Wait is that the place where they had all those tacky little crab salt and pepper shakers?"

"I thought they were cute," Ron told her.

"How the hell did I ever marry a man with no taste at all?" Mallory groaned.

"Well if you think you can do better, **you** make the damn reservations!" Ron snapped.

"I will!" Mallory snapped as she got up. "Well I have to go do nothing. I'm assuming you are going to give me my present later at dinner. I'll pick you up this afternoon! Try to pick out something halfway decent that doesn't need ironing!" She grabbed her purse and left the house.

"I should give **myself** a present," Ron grumbled when he was alone. "And ask for a divorce."

Later early in the evening…

"Okay…" Ron grumbled as he put on his white jacket. "Where is this place you picked out that I have to put this monkey suit on?"

"Yes, about that," Mallory sighed as she finished dressing in a nice black evening gown. "I made them at the Grand Tuntwood Hotel's dining room."

"Grand Tuntwood Hotel?" Ron blinked. "Wait a minute…Isn't that…?"

"Yes," Mallory sighed.

"And I'm guessing she…?" Ron added.

"Yes," Mallory sighed.

"And that means all _the others_ are…?" Ron gasped,

"YES!" Mallory snapped. "It's a free meal at an expensive restaurant okay?"

"You'd do **anything** to not pay for a meal, wouldn't you?" Ron snapped.

"Krieger is picking us up so we can both drink and not have to worry about driving," Mallory snapped. "Don't worry. I told him not to use his god-awful van."

"Did you tell him to actually rent a limo?" Ron did a double take.

"I told him to get anything appropriate for the occasion," Mallory sniffed.

"Does he know what that means?" Ron asked.

"Probably," Mallory waved. "Lana is getting a sitter so it will be…Well I'd love to say adults only. But knowing the mindset of the idiots in my office…"

"Well I might as well give you my anniversary present now," Ron sighed as he picked up a small box with a bow. "Happy Anniversary."

Mallory opened it. It was a pair of earrings. "Oh, Ron you shouldn't have."

"I know," Ron waved. "I thought they would look good on you."

"No, I mean you really **shouldn't** have," Mallory gave him a look. "Wood earrings?"

"Wood is a traditional five-year anniversary gift," Ron snapped. "And that's no ordinary wood. That's some kind of fancy tree bark that's been polished with marbling. And the posts are genuine silver."

"You're a genuine something or other all right," Mallory grumbled. "Lucky for you this pearl necklace you got me makes up for that."

"Oh, I got you that huh?" Ron noticed it around her neck. "That was very generous of me. So what did you get me for our anniversary? Besides this new watch?" He showed her a brand-new watch on his wrist.

"Is that Cartier?" Mallory gasped. She narrowed her eyes. "I gave **you** that watch huh?"

"You're not the only one who knows that trick," Ron told her. "By the way Doll, you really should change your banking password from Duchess. Just a hint."

"Oh, I'll change **a few things** around here one of these days," Mallory glared at him. The sound of an ice cream truck was heard in the background.

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase it's the thought that counts?" Ron snapped.

"That's just something wimps say when they're too polite to tell you how they really feel about a lousy gift!" Mallory snapped. "It's the thought that's complete and utter crap!"

"Well how appropriate," Ron gave her a look. "Considering all the crap you put me through…"

He stopped for a minute. "Do you hear an ice cream truck?"

"I put **you** through crap?" Mallory snapped. "You've put **me** through…You're right. I **do** hear an ice cream truck."

"Isn't it late for the ice cream man?" Ron asked. "Aren't kids in bed by now?"

"What kids?" Mallory snapped. "Most people on this block are retired. Or…Oh no."

"What?" Ron asked. "Is it just me or does it sound like an ice cream truck is in our driveway."

"Oh God no!" Mallory looked out the window. "That's because it **is** in our driveway! I don't freaking **believe this**!"

"Hi Ms. Archer!" Krieger waved from the driver's seat of the ice cream van.

"Hey Ms. Archer!" Pam waved from the passenger's side. "Your ride is here! Isn't it bitchin'?"

Ron looked at Mallory. "All right," Mallory groaned. "I admit it. I should have been more specific!"

Soon Ron and Mallory walked into their driveway up to the ice cream van. The door opened and inside were the others all dressed up. "What the hell is this?" Mallory shouted.

"What?" Krieger asked. "You said you didn't want to go in the Rush Van."

"I mean a limo!" Mallory snapped. "Or a town car! Not this…Nightmare on Sesame Street!"

"You said it was a special occasion. What's more festive than an ice cream truck?" Krieger asked. "With plenty of alcoholic ice cream inside!"

"I'm in!" Ron went inside. "You got any Triple Rum Ripple?"

"RON!" Mallory snapped.

"Oh, like you'd pass up anything made with booze?" Ron snapped.

Mallory paused. "Damn it," She went inside. "Is there any Triple Rum Ripple?"

"I have Triple Rum Ripple," Krieger told them. "Strawberry Scotch. Vanilla Vodka. Kalua Coffee. Chocolate Bourbon Bomb. Peach Schnapps Surprise. Cookies and Coco De Crème. Daquiri Dippy Dots. Raspberry Rosé **.** Clockwork Orange Dreamsicles. Groovy Bear Blend. Purpleberry Prozac. Mind Bomb Mocha Madness. Waterloo Whisky…"

"Waterloo Whisky?" Mallory asked.

"It's a Napoleon blend," Krieger explained.

"That's Neapolitan," Ray corrected.

"Well whatever it is," Cyril was having a tricolored cone. "Have enough of these and you'll surrender anywhere you think is Waterloo."

"And for the lactose intolerant…" Krieger began.

"Or just plain intolerant," Pam quipped.

"We have Lime-A-Rita," Krieger went on. "Lollapalooza Lemon Ice, Groovy Bear Grape and I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Pecan."

Cheryl was licking a cone. "You really can't believe it's not butter pecan!"

"Heads up," Lana sighed. "There are also a lot of drug combinations in the ice cream."

"Thank God for that," Ron groaned. "Somebody pass me a Triple Rum Ripple."

"Me too," Mallory groaned.

Soon they were on the road. "This is good ice cream," Ron remarked as he finished his cone. "I know normally I don't eat dessert first. But what the hey? Live a little."

"You idiots are going to live **very little** if you embarrass me at the Grand Tuntwood," Mallory growled.

"We won't," Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Swearsies Realisies."

"That means nothing to me and you know it!" Mallory snapped.

"Ms. Archer," Cheryl gave her a look. "I promise that you will **not** be embarrassed at the Grand Tuntwood Hotel in any way! Happy?"

"Only when you die," Mallory grumbled.

"Did we at least lose those kids?" Lana sighed.

"Oh yeah," Pam nodded. "When we got to the highway. Some of them tried to catch us on bikes but…Well…"

"I thought I heard a car crash," Ray realized.

"Don't worry," Pam said. "The kids didn't get hit. A few other cars got hit but…"

"I don't want to know," Lana sighed. "I just don't want to know."

"Why were they chasing us?" Krieger asked.

"Because you're driving an ice cream truck!" Ray snapped.

"Ohhh right," Krieger realized.

"Well at least this anniversary will be memorable," Ron admitted.

"Hopefully not for the wrong reasons," Lana groaned.

"Again," Ray looked at Mallory. "You put **Cheryl and Pam** in charge of the party tonight? Really? You don't think that's tempting fate?"

"As enjoyable as it would be for me to go to a male strip club," Mallory glared at Ray. "I have to bring Ron too and since he's a total kill-joy…"

"You **murdered** any joy in this marriage years ago, babe!" Ron snapped.

"Oh, come on now you two," Cyril said. "This is your five-year anniversary. That's a major accomplishment."

"We honestly didn't think you would last this long," Krieger added.

"We really didn't," Ray agreed.

"It's still a major accomplishment," Lana said. "I'm proud of you two."

"For what?" Cheryl snickered. "Not killing each other? Actually for Ms. Archer that is an accomplishment."

"Believe me," Mallory glared at her husband. "There were a lot of times I was _tempted_."

"I am not the one who put Frick and Frack in charge of the anniversary party," Ron snapped at her.

"No, but you are the one who gave me **wood earrings**!" Mallory snapped.

"After you gave yourself a damn expensive necklace!" Ron snapped.

"Wood earrings?" Lana asked.

"Wood is traditional for a five-year anniversary," Cyril said. "It's kind of sweet."

"Then you can have them!" Mallory snapped.

"Oh, this is going to be a **magical night** ," Ray drawled as he ate some ice cream. "Wow. I really can't believe this isn't butter pecan."

"I know! Right?" Cheryl giggled.

"God, I wish Sterling was here," Mallory groaned. "Even riding in that ridiculous car of his would be better than this."

"Whatever happened to his car?" Pam realized. "I haven't seen it in at least a month."

"Oh I'm sure it's around somewhere," Cyril waved.

"You sold it, didn't you?" Ray looked at him.

"It wasn't just **my idea**!" Cyril pointed at Mallory.

"I didn't say it was a **bad idea** ," Ray corrected.

"We did need to pay the electric bill," Mallory sighed. "And the internet bill…"

"That's probably the most use that car ever had in our agency," Lana quipped.

"True dat," Cyril nodded.

"I can't wait to see Archer's face when he finds out," Pam laughed. Then frowned. "If he finds out."

"He **will** find out," Lana snapped. "Because any day now Archer will snap out of his coma."

"That's what you've been saying for **like forever!"** Cheryl groaned. "Oh my God! Coma plotlines are so boring on **this end!"**

"What is she talking about?" Ron asked.

"Don't ask," Mallory waved. "Speaking of ending are we there yet?"

"We're almost there!" Krieger said.

"Good," Mallory sighed. "I could use a good meal and a stiff drink."

"You just had some ice cream full of alcohol and drugs!" Ron snapped.

"Hence the good meal and the stiff drink," Mallory looked at him. "Sometimes I can't figure out why I married you. It's like you have no clue about basic things!"

Ron looked at Lana. "I know," Lana sighed. "I heard it too."

The ice cream van stopped. "We're here!" Cheryl cheered.

"Finally," Mallory groaned as the doors opened. "Well at least we can have a…WHAT THE HELL?"

Before them was a gaudy bright red and yellow building. There were fake cacti that were lit up in a variety of colors. A huge playground on the side with some screaming kids and stressed out parents. And a huge sign with a goofy cowboy face saying: PECOS PETE'S PIZZA PARLOR!

"I think we made a wrong turn at Albuquerque," Cyril blinked as they got out of the van.

"Wait a minute…" Mallory did a double take. "This isn't the Grand Tuntwood!"

"I know," Cheryl giggled. "I **lied**! I made your reservations for **here**!"

" _Here?"_ Ray did a double take.

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted.

"PSYCHE!" Pam and Cheryl shouted with glee.

"Psyche as in…" Mallory said hopefully. "You are pretending you made reservations for here? And that there's a limo that will take us to the Grand Tuntwood?"

"No," Cheryl snickered. "Psyche as in there **never was** any reservations for the Grand Tuntwood."

" **This** is where your party is!" Pam cheered.

"See?" Cheryl said. "I told you that you wouldn't be embarrassed at the Grand Tuntwood. And since you're not going to the Grand Tuntwood I kept my promise."

"Should have known she'd find a loophole," Cyril groaned. "Mallory, I swear I didn't know about this!"

"Me neither," Lana groaned.

"Only Pam and Krieger were in on it," Cheryl explained. "My company owns this restaurant too. I always wanted to try it out so…"

"So just so I'm clear on this," Mallory paled. "I am having my anniversary dinner…In a greasy pizza parlor that makes Chucky Cheese look like Tavern on the Green?"

"The Crab Shack is looking pretty good now, isn't it?" Ron snapped at his wife.

"The gay strip club is looking pretty good right about now," Mallory groaned. "No! No! **No!** I am putting my foot down! I will not do this! I will **not** degrade myself like this!"

"If you eat here I'll pay you and everyone else here ten thousand dollars each," Cheryl said. "Pay for your meals and then take you to a bar for drinks somewhere else."

Mallory paused. "Then again…I suppose I could go for Italian." She started walking towards the building.

"I was wondering how you'd get her in there," Pam said to Cheryl. "Now I know."

"And knowing is a good reason to have antacids in my purse," Lana groaned.

Soon they were sitting at a table. Children ran amok all over the place. There was an animatronic cowboy band playing loud music. Kids were jumping into a ball pit. The sounds of video games and skee ball at an arcade in the next room was heard.

"I got spaghetti in my hair!" A child ran by laughing and covered with stains.

"JAKE COME BACK HERE!" His harried mother ran by the table.

"I feel a tad overdressed," Ray winced.

"Wow," Ron looked at his wife. "You will put up with **anything** for money!"

"I married **you** , didn't I?" Mallory snapped. "In the words of Ms. Gillette, **burn!** "

"I'm not always the one who says that," Ray pouted.

"No, but you are the one who says it the best," Krieger shrugged. "You put a little flair into it."

"JAKE GET OUT OF THE BALL PIT!" The mother screamed. "YOU'RE GETTING SAUCE STAINS ALL OVER THE PLACE!"

"Nobody tell AJ we came here," Lana groaned.

"Are you kidding?" Mallory snapped. "If Sterling found out we came here I'd never hear the end of it!"

"He wanted to come to a place like this when he was a kid?" Lana asked. "Wait I didn't think they had pizza parlors for kids back then."

"They didn't," Mallory groaned. "He wanted to go to one for his thirtieth birthday."

A couple of colorful cowboys and cowgirls came with the pizza. "Okay buckaroos!" A cowboy in a light up hat cheered. "Here's your pizzas!"

"Oh joy," Mallory sighed.

"The pizzas look good," Cyril said. "This isn't so bad."

Just then the cowboy in the light up hat called out. "OKAY EVERYONE LISTEN UP! WE HAVE A COUPLE HERE CELEBRATING THEIR FIVE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY! LET'S GIVE 'EM A PECOS PETE CHEER!"

Mallory and Ron paled as the cowboys cheered. "BIG HATS! SMELLY FEET! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY FROM PECOS PETE!"

Mallory glared at a giggling Cheryl. "I hate you…so much."

"Okay," Cyril shrugged as the servers left. "That was bad."

"You got all of that with your phone, right?" Ray whispered to Pam.

"Oh yeah," Pam grinned as she held her phone.

"Second worst anniversary ever…" Mallory groaned.

"How are any of our other anniversaries **worse** than **this?** " Ron asked. "Are you counting the one when we were separated?"

"No, I actually enjoyed **that one** ," Mallory sighed. "Nice and peaceful. I didn't say it was one of **our anniversaries**."

"Then whose anniversary are you talking about?" Ron asked in an annoyed tone.

"Who remembers?" Mallory waved. "Oh my god! There's so much grease on this pizza it's making the entire table clear!"

"Which anniversary are you talking about Mallory?" Ron snapped. "Because clearly **you** remember!"

"Are you talking about the agency's twenty fifth anniversary?" Pam spoke up. "When we were a spy agency? When Archer brought all those hookers, firecrackers and that ostrich?"

"She wasn't even there for that one," Ray told her. "Remember? She was in the Bahamas shacking up with some guy. Who dumped her when he went back to his wife."

"It's got to be when she was seeing Burt Reynolds," Cheryl waved as she ate some cheese free pizza. "And they got into this huge fight in his hotel room when he dumped her on their six-week anniversary and she trashed his hotel room."

"How do you know about that?" Mallory snapped.

"Uh it was on the **restraining order,"** Cheryl scoffed. "Duh!"

"No, I don't think it was that either," Pam nodded. "Oh, are you talking about that party you had when you were seeing these two guys? A banker and a businessman and they both showed up and found out you were two timing them?"

"No," Ray shook his head. "That was a St. Patrick's Day party. I remember because Archer threw up green beer all over the place."

"What about when her dog died?" Cheryl asked.

"That was a birthday," Pam snapped. "Not an anniversary."

"Technically a birthday is an anniversary," Cyril said. "Of one's birth. But I don't think it was that one either. Was it when you were going out with Nikolai Jakov?"

"Or when you were going out with Len Trexler?" Ray asked.

"IT WAS WHEN STERLING SPILLED MY DOG'S ASHES ON THE FLOOR AND IN THE TOILET THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF HER DEATH!" Mallory shouted. "OKAY?"

"Just what a man wants to hear on his anniversary," Ron grumbled as he ate some pizza. "About all the men his wife schtupped before him!"

" _All?_ " Cheryl laughed. "That's not even **half!"**

"Not even a third," Ray added.

"Now this is officially the worst anniversary ever," Mallory groaned as she nibbled some bread sticks. "Isn't there any wine in this place?"

"It's a kids' restaurant Mallory," Lana groaned. "Of course, there aren't any drinks!"

"Definitely the worst anniversary ever," Mallory groaned.

"Well this pizza isn't that good," Pam munched on it.

"Then why are you eating it?" Mallory asked.

"Free pizza," Pam looked at her. "But you do have a point. I'm gonna go play some games and win some prizes."

"Cool," Cheryl got up. "I'm gonna see if I can win a flame thrower."

"They don't have…" Pam began as Cheryl left. "Never mind. Maybe she'll see something shiny and forget about it." She went with her.

"All right!" Krieger cheered as he looked around. "They have Skee Ball!"

"I like Skee Ball," Cyril said. "You wanna play Skee Ball?"

"I'll play Skee Ball," Ray said.

"Me too," Ron got up with them. "I was pretty good back in the day."

"Ron!" Mallory snapped.

"It's my anniversary too and I'm playing Skee Ball damn it!" Ron snapped as he left the table. Soon only Lana and Mallory were at the table.

"Okay…" Lana let out a breath. "I know this isn't ideal."

"Oh no Lana!" Mallory snapped. "I just **love** being humiliated like this!"

"Hey I'm trying to be supportive here!" Lana snapped. "We all know this train wreck could have been avoided if you didn't put Cheryl in charge!"

"I really should delegate to Gillette more," Mallory sighed. "At least it would have been a tasteful male strip club."

"And you know Ray would have booked us a private booth," Lana added. "And he would have gotten us drinks."

"Of course, he would have!" Mallory groaned. "Oh God why didn't I put Ray in charge of this?"

"JAKE STOP RUNNING ON THE TABLES!" The mother screamed.

"At least the entertainment would have been better," Mallory groaned.

CRASH!

"Oops," Ray winced as he saw the huge hole he made in the Skee Ball machine. "Sorry."

"Let's move on to the whack a mole," Krieger suggested. "Ray…Don't use your bionic hand."

"Good idea," Ron groaned as the men did so.

"I knew I should have put a flask in my purse," Mallory groaned. "But I got pressed for time getting Ron dressed up."

"JAKE! STOP IT!" Jake's mother screamed. "STOP THROWING FOOD!"

"YEAH JAKE! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?" Cheryl yelled.

"In hindsight," Lana sighed as she saw Cheryl getting into a food fight with a child. "It was rather unnecessary."

"DAMN IT RAY!" Krieger shouted. "I TOLD YOU TO NOT USE YOUR BIONIC HAND ON THOSE WHACK A MOLES!"

"THAT WASN'T ME!" Ray shouted.

"WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!" Cyril was screaming with joy. "TAKE **THAT** DAD! TAKE **THAT** ARCHER! TAKE THAT EVERYONE WHO THINKS I'M USELESS! HA HA HA!"

CRASH!

"Oh," Krieger was heard. "I apologize Ray."

"STOP THROWING STUFF AT MY SON!" Jake's mother shouted.

"HE STARTED IT!" Pam shouted.

"YEAH!" Cheryl shouted. "YOU'RE NOT MY SUPERVISOR!"

"Somebody honestly **should be** ," Lana sighed as she saw Pam and Cheryl get into a food fight with Jake and his mother.

"Not it," Mallory groaned.

CRASH!

"Wow," Ron remarked as he held a mallet over the wrecked game. "They do **not** make whack a mole machines like they used to."

"WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!" Cyril was still on the other wrecked game whacking away.

"Cyril! Cyril!" Ray pulled him away. "They're dead now!"

"Oh…" Cyril seemed to snap out of it. He looked around. "I went away for a bit didn't I?"

"Not like you were the only one," Ron admitted.

"All right knock it off!" Several servers came between Pam, Cheryl and the family.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Cheryl snapped. "I own this company!"

"You own Giant Subsidiaries?" One waitress asked.

"Oh," Cheryl blinked. "I guess I don't own this place after all."

"CHERYL! CAROL!" Everyone shouted.

"And that's how we got banned from Pecos Pete's," Lana groaned.

A few minutes later…

"AND NEVER COME BACK!" Someone shouted as the Figgis Agency left. Pam and Cheryl were covered in food stains.

"Who could have seen this development?" Ray said sarcastically. "Oh, I know…ANYBODY!"

"Oh, put a penis in it!" Mallory snapped. "And you wonder why I don't put you in charge of things!"

"We just got kicked out of a greasy third-rate pizza joint," Cyril snapped. "It's like our week isn't complete until we get kicked out of somewhere."

"At least it didn't burn down," Ray shrugged.

"I would have preferred it burned down!" Mallory snapped.

"We could still…" Cheryl began.

"NO!" Everyone shouted.

"Let's just go…" Lana did a double take. "Krieger…Did you lock the ice cream truck doors?"

"I'm pretty sure I…" Krieger did a double take at the sight. "Oh. I guess I didn't."

Staggering around were a group of kids and some parents eating ice cream. The doors to the ice cream truck were wide open. "Great ice cream man!" One father giggled.

"Yeah," An older woman hiccupped. "I haven't had a buzz this good since Woodstock!"

"The colors…" A small child looked dazed. "The colors…"

"Uh oh," Krieger gulped. "This is not good…"

"Oh dear God…" Lana was stunned.

"Oh yeah…" A tipsy mother hiccupped. "My kids broke into your van. But it's all good. We'll pay…With something."

"You're going to pay all right," Ray winced. "Excuse me…"

He zipped into the doorway of the pizza place. "Somebody call 911!" He shouted. "Tainted drugged ice cream incident!"

"AGAIN?" Someone shouted.

"Just call an ambulance and request a stomach pump!" Ray snapped.

"God, I **hate** when this happens!" Someone else shouted.

Ray zipped out. "Okay I did my good deed," Ray said. "We should go now."

"Let's make like a banana and split!" Pam shouted.

They shoved the kids and parents out the door of the ice cream truck and pealed out. "Okay so we just accidentally drugged a bunch of kids and their parents…" Cyril groaned. "That's going to create some lawsuits."

"Technically they broke into the truck…" Krieger suggested.

"Oh God we are going to jail, aren't we?" Lana groaned.

"Well this ice cream sure as hell ain't street legal," Pam groaned.

"We're **not** going to jail!" Ron snapped. He took out his phone. "I know a guy. He owes me a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Mallory asked.

"Let **me** do the talking for once!" Ron snapped. He spoke into the phone. "Hey! Joe-eey! Yeah, it's Ron! Listen I'm calling in that favor for that thing I did for you. I need to get rid of an ice cream truck. Like it never existed. And some illegal ice cream. Yeah that's a thing. Uh huh. Okay good. Fine. Yeah you can have the leftover ice cream. There's still plenty left. Yeah there's some lactose free ones too. But they have a kick. Okay. Bye."

Ron hung up. "Okay Krieger let's go to fourth and main then take a left."

"Hang on," Mallory said. "How do you know someone?"

"I've been in the car business for decades!" Ron snapped. "Of course I know someone!"

"You mean a chop shop?" Cyril asked.

"Nowadays they prefer to be called automotive recycling centers," Ron told him. "But yeah."

"Oh, here's a shock from Mr. Morality!" Mallory snapped.

"Don't start with me woman!" Ron snapped. "Just don't **start** with me! Not tonight!"

"I just think it's pretty funny," Mallory sneered. "You lecture me on the things I've done when you are associated with some shady characters yourself."

"Nothing I ever did tops **treason** Mallory!" Ron shouted. "The people I know may have done a few sketchy things! But not treason! NOT ONE OF THEM! SO, **SHUT UP!"**

"God Archer is gonna be so pissed he missed this," Pam snorted with laughter.

"I wish I did," Ron groaned.

Forty-five minutes later…

"Well this was a **magical evening** ," Mallory said sarcastically as the gang left a garage. "What anniversary is complete without a visit to a chop shop?"

"An automotive recycling center!" Ron snapped. "And we wouldn't be in this mess if you just let me take you to the Crab Shack in the first place."

"Ooh crabs!" Pam said. "I could go for crabs!"

"I'm sure your next sexual partner will be loaded with them," Mallory said sarcastically.

"Look that truck is gone now," Ron said. "It will be like it never existed. And if anybody asks…"

"We never had an ice cream truck," Cyril sighed. "We know the drill. All too well."

"Here's a question," Ray asked. "How are we going to get home?"

"Why do we need to go home?" Pam asked. "The night is young…"

"And Ms. Archer isn't," Cheryl said as she played with her phone. "Don't worry I'm calling for a ride. And then we're going to go somewhere fun!"

"Ooooh no!" Mallory snapped. "I'm not falling for **that** again! Ron take me home!"

"If you leave you're not getting the ten thousand," Cheryl said.

"I don't care!" Mallory snapped. "Nothing is worth spending even **more time** with you idiots!"

"I dunno," Cyril shrugged. "Beats sitting at home."

"I have nowhere to be," Krieger added.

"Honestly I have at least three more hours with my sitter so…" Lana sighed.

"So, you and the idiot brigade can have fun riding in a pig truck or a school bus…" Mallory went on. "To whatever insane stupid place she wants to go! I am **out** of here! Thanks for nothing! Ron call me a cab!"

"Okay," Ron quipped. "You're a cab!"

"ROO-OOON!" Mallory bristled.

"Good night gang," Ron sighed. "I'd say it was a lovely evening…But who am I kidding?"

"I got the cab Ron!" Mallory snapped as she waved down a cab. "Thanks for nothing!"

"I swear to God woman…" Ron grumbled as he got in the cab with his wife.

"So where are we going?" Lana asked Cheryl.

"The Grand Tuntwood," Cheryl said. "I booked us a private room."

"Then why the hell didn't we go there in the **first place?"** Cyril asked.

"You think I want to bring a bitch like Ms. Archer to a place **that nice**?" Cheryl asked. "I mean Ron's okay but she's a downer."

"She has a point," Pam shrugged.

"Just don't tell Ms. Archer that we went there," Cheryl said. "Say we went to a strip club and I'll throw in another five grand each."

"Deal," Ray nodded. "There is an open bar, right?"

"Duh!" Cheryl snorted. "Here's our ride!"

A huge fancy limo with tinted windows pulled up. Everyone cheered with joy.

"That is a nice car," Ray whistled.

"Fancy," Krieger agreed.

"Courtesy of Tunt Limo Service," Cheryl grinned. "And there's champagne in there too!"

"Now you're talking!" Pam said as she made her way in. Soon the gang was on the road.

So were Mallory and Ron. "Well thank you very much Ron for a lovely evening!" Mallory said sarcastically.

"Oh no!" Ron snapped. "You are not putting this on me! Noooope! I wanted to go to the Crab Shack. You know we can still make it…"

"Some anniversary this is," Mallory groaned as she looked out the window. The limo with the tinted windows drove by. **"That's** what I wanted for my anniversary! To live like whoever is in that limo! A life of dignity and class…"

Meanwhile in the limo…

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Everyone whooped as Pam chugged a bottle of champagne.

"Oh yeah!" Pam whooped as she finished. Then burped loudly. And then farted.

Back in the taxi…

"That's what I wanted," Mallory sighed as the limo pulled away. "To be back where I belong!"

"Here we go," Ron rolled his eyes.

"Is it so much to ask that I be treated the way I **deserve?** " Mallory began. "Don't answer that."

"To be fair that is one hell of a softball," Ron looked at her.

"I should throw a softball at your hard head," Mallory grumbled.

"Keep it up woman and it will be our **last** anniversary together," Ron groaned.

"Don't make promises a bullet can keep," Mallory glared at him.


End file.
